Back To The Street Where We Began
by dahliadenoire
Summary: AU/Roman Holiday . Germany/Italy. Feliciano ran away from home to get out to the city of Rome. While news press and secret service agents searched for him, it just so happened that a certain Ludwig Beilschmidt was the one who found him first.
1. Prologue

**~o~**

**Back to The Street Where We Began**

**~o~**

**

* * *

**

_**Uno**_

**Prologue**

**

* * *

**

"Antonio! Antonio!" a panicked voice shouted throughout the halls of the residence of the president of Italy, Palazzo del Quirinale. It echoed across the halls that the several employees of the building was startled as well.

A brown-haired boy, with a strand of curly hair standing up from his head, ran towards a man with dark brown hair as well. The taller man turned around to see a panting boy, his hands on his knees and trying to catch his breath.

"Lovino!" Antonio smiled at him. "Something wrong?"

Lovino stood up, still breathing heavily, stuttered, "F-F-Felici—my brother is missing!"

Antonio's smile was soon replaced with a worried frown and wide eyes. "Missing?!"

As the news of the president's son missing spread amongst the people of the palace, Lovino's anxiety worsened as Antonio, his personal secretary and adviser_,_ tried to comfort him as much as he can. Formerly a member of the political parties in Spain, he moved to Italy later on. He was once the boss of Lovino and Feliciano's father but he became such good friends with him and became fond of Lovino that he resigned from his work in Spain. Antonio had been taking care of Lovino and Feliciano since they were children. He had grown attached to Lovino more despite his bitter actions towards him while Feliciano was more attached to one of the Hungarian agents. He, too, was worried for Feliciano.

Sitting on a golden couch in the large living room of the palace, Lovino remembered how naïve his brother was and he was scared to death what could happen to him, wandering along in the streets of Italy. He shouted in despair, "Send Secret Service Agents out there! What the hell is dad doing?!"

"The President is currently in a meeting with the Prime Minister. It would take a while before the news will reach him. Though I'm sure Roderich is doing something about it right now." Antonio replied, standing beside the upset boy.

"He better do! Don't release this to the press yet, they'll be searching for him once news gets out.

A loud bang from the door was then heard. An agent soon emerged from the double doors and then approached Lovino, "_Signorino_! News press from all over Italy is outside the palace!"

"_What_?!"

"Someone from inside the palace gossiped the news outside. It had spread throughout the city quickly."

"T-Tell them to get the freaking fuck out!"

"_S-Signorino,_ I b-believe we cannot do that."

"Where the hell are the guards of this place?! Do not let those press bastards sneak inside! Go!"

"_Si, Signore!"_

Lovino could literally feel a headache coming. He would seriously kill those bastards from the press if he had to. Why did they have to be so nosy, getting into other people's personal lives? It would be such a bad image to his father who had just been recently adored by the people of Italy. Feliciano running away from home would make misunderstandings among people. Lovino sighed in distress as Antonio could only do nothing but to pat his back and smile at him.

"Lovino, I'm sure Feliciano would come back. How about I make you some of your favorite pasta? Some _Fettuccine Alfredo_ would make you feel better." Lovino felt a hand ruffling his hair. He stayed silent as a blush crept on his cheeks. He looked up to the taller man and saw a smile of empathy towards him.

"So? How about it, sweetie?" the older man teased as he felt an almost immediate punch in the gut from Lovino.

"I-I.. want Bolognese."

"Alright, you should go upstairs to your room, I'll bring food there. Don't worry too much about Feliciano! He might be just as clumsy and dense as you are—" With those words, Lovino glared at him, "—but I'm sure he can manage with his incredible luck."

* * *

"Ludwig! Come and have a look at this!"

He woke up as soon as he heard his name being called. His eyes were groggy and remnants of sleep still remained as he struggled to stand up from his sitting position. His muscles were numb due to probable hours of sleeping on his uncomfortable office chair.

When he arrived outside of his office, where the other employees of the Italian news press _Corriere della Sera_ sat on one couch, all eyes averted to the average-sized television hanging from the ceiling.

Gilbert caught the look of confusion on his brother's face. "You gotta hear this, bro. We can get some juicy articles from this one."

Ludwig blinked a few times before averting his eyes to the screen. The opening scene of CNN flash news popped out, with the digital globe lighting and rotating with the words _World News_ written in front of it. Ludwig waited for the news anchor to appear, and when he did, a man of blond hair with glasses on screen started to speak with a small picture behind him.

'_Good evening! Welcome to World News, I am Alfred Jones at the CNN Center and here is an update from our top stories! In Italy, after the election of President Giovanni Vargas, people from all over the world were dying to get the latest scoop from the President's twin sons, Lovino and Feliciano Vargas. Recent news about one twin, Feliciano, concerned him being sick with fever for the past few days, but rumors started to spread saying that Feliciano Vargas went missing from the Quirinal Palace since yesterday. The employees of __Palazzo del Quirinale panicked as soon as they found out that the boy was no longer inside the palace and some of his clothes and personal belongings gone. Rumors also spread that the boy ran away. Rumored sightings of Feliciano were in east Rome where—'_

"This is just awesome, right? If we could find that boy and publish an article, we could make millions! Corriere della Sera will be the first to get an exclusive sighting of him! What do you say old man Ludwig?" a man of white hair exclaimed. He shot a smug at his brother who looked at him with doubtful narrowed eyes.

"Gilbert, finding a lost boy is easier said than done. Are you trying to say we'll search for that boy all over Italy? That's absurd!"

"Come on, bro. He's in Rome right now according to the news. It's a pretty small place, and besides, your apartment is in the vicinity of Rome!"

"We don't even know what he looks like. The news didn't show his image."

"I guess that was necessary for private matters."

"We shouldn't get involved with this. Secret Service Agents are probably looking for the boy right at this very moment. Those agents will eventually find him."

"Not if we find him first, bro."

For some unexplainable reason, when Ludwig left the office to go home and walked on the streets of Italy, he coincidentally found an unfamiliar young man sleeping on one of the street benches, he felt something bad was going to happen.

* * *

**A/N: I've been wanting to write this for a long time now! Hope there are no other stories like this ;_; Roman Holiday is like, my most favorite movie in the entire world~ I'll try to update faster as much as I can though.**

**Reviews make me write :3**


	2. Picking Up Things We Shouldn't Read

**~o~**

**Back to The Street Where We Began**

**~o~**

**

* * *

**

**_Due_ **

**Picking Up Things We Shouldn't Read**

**

* * *

**

"Finally!" Gilbert exclaimed, stretching his arms after the day's work. He looked at his obviously tired brother, currently cleaning up the piles of paper on his desk. He saw Ludwig turn to him.

"I'm gonna get some beer before I go home. Coming?" the light blond invited, wanting to get rid of that heavy feeling of work on his shoulders. He was a little stressed since a while ago when Gilbert suddenly desired to find the missing son of the president. They were the news press, not some kind of search party for lost boys.

Gilbert shook his head frustratingly. "Nah, I'll pass. My friend and his girlfriend are total asses. They want me staying at the house the whole night since they have some kind of overtime at work. Hell, I don't even know _where_ they work."

Ludwig narrowed his eyes and stared at him. "What kind of roommate are you?"

"Correction. I'm not their _roommate_. I'm just staying at Roderich's place for fun. I love ruining that wannabe-aristocrat's life. That's how fucking awesome I am." Gilbert proudly said with an arrogant smirk as Ludwig only sighed at the white-haired man's egotism.

"Just don't get in trouble like before. You almost burned Rich's house."

"That _so _wasn't my fault."

"Uh-huh."

"Seriously."

"I'm going off first." Ludwig said, grabbing his gray-green coat before heading towards the door.

"Oh! And bro..?" Gilbert called before the taller man could close the door behind him, "Don't forget! 10:45!"

Ludwig sighed for the countless time that day. "Do whatever you want, but I'm not going with you."

Though Glibert declined his brother's drinking invitation, Ludwig still went to get a few shots at a nearby bar. His head was spinning for some reason and due to that, he left the bar early before it could get worse. He had a crazy talent to control himself when it comes to his precious beer. He knew when to stop.

Walking on the dimly-lighted cobbled streets of Rome, his hands on his pockets, he thought about how his life progressed so far. He had a stable job, a normal apartment and a single life. He couldn't get promoted to a higher rank since that's the farthest he could go. Buying a house would be too expensive and he felt like he had no intention of marrying. He had no interest in women from the very beginning but that did not necessarily mean that he had interest in men either. It was on a good pace, but he knew it could be better. There was a void and he felt like something was missing.

Ludwig wanted to stop his deep thinking before it had gone too far.

Stopping his thoughts was clearly of no problem for it all immediately snapped when his eyes caught a figure on a bench as he passed by. He stopped. It was dark and the streetlights were the only things that illuminated the place. Ludwig blinked and turned his head around slowly. He eyed the figure. It was sleeping, curled up in a ball, and it had a smile on its face. Maybe he was drunk after all. It was the middle of the night and was almost dawn. There was no way there could be a young boy sleeping on a bench in the streets of Italy while wearing an expensive blue Armani suit he saw yesterday by the stores. Right? Ludwig proceeded to walk ahead. It must be the beer seeing things.

"P..Pa.."

The confused man stopped his tracks again and this time, he quickly turned around and approached the young boy. It talked! Ludwig slapped himself, wanting to stop calling the young boy like it was some kind of an unknown species_._ He eyed the boy again. He had brown auburn hair, a curled strand popping out on the side which he found disturbing. Ludwig thought the sleeping man was just some homeless person. But he then realized homeless people do not wear Armani.

"Pasta.."

Ludwig, in all honesty, had no idea what to do. What was this boy doing sleeping carelessly outside in the streets anyway? The man was lost between leaving the boy and waking him up. He couldn't tear his gaze off the boy. He looked so helpless, so vulnerable. His face showed that anything bad can happen to him. He decided. He couldn't leave the young man. He felt himself drawn to him for some reason.

Ludwig approached the slumbering boy.

"Wake up." He whispered. The boy didn't budge. "Hey, boy. It's dangerous here. Wake up." He then shouted. The man sighed; he could not be woken up with words. He shook his shoulders lightly.

"Hey."

"Hmm..? Five more minutes."

This really wasn't his problem and Ludwig was starting to lose his patience. The boy was obviously drunk. But at such a young age? He was wrong to judge his age, but he looked about seventeen to his eyes. Or maybe he himself was drunk as well? And maybe he was hallucinating that there was a drunk, rich, boy sleeping on the bench?

The boy stirred and Ludwig waited and stood still. But he couldn't just stand there when the boy carelessly tried to roll to his side. The troubled blond caught the sleeping boy in his arms before he could fall. Ludwig stared at the boy's face and let out a very tired sigh.

"Fine, fine.."

Ludwig carried the boy and sat him up once again on the bench, straightening him up. He knelt down on the ground to the boy's level, so he could be face to face with him. He clamped his large hands over his shoulders and began to try to wake him up again.

"Wake up. It would be bad if the police find you like this. Hey!" Ludwig groaned with his growing annoyance and the feeling of not knowing what to do. His tired eyes opened wide when the boy spoke, but his eyes still closed.

"Brother? Is breakfast ready yet?"

"I'm not your brother. And you need to get up and go home." Ludwig said but he doubted that the boy even understood that when he was half-asleep like that.

"Are you.. Are you Antonio then?" the boy spoke softly, a little groggy in tone.

"No."

"E…veta?"

"I'm Ludwig. Ludwig Beilschmidt" Ludwig went with the flow, talking to the nearly awake boy.

"Plea..sant day.. to meet you.."

"People who couldn't handle liquor shouldn't drink."

"_Ecco mormorar l'onde, E tremolar le fronde A l'aura mattutina, e gli arboscelli, E sovra i verdi rami i vaghi augelli."_

"My.. My Italian isn't very—"

"Do you know that poem?"

"No." He said sternly. "I..I don't understand. You're well-dressed, well-educated and you're sleeping here in the public streets!"

"Now the waves murmur. And the boughs and the shrubs tremble—"

Ludwig stopped responding to think for a while as the boy continued murmuring lines from some random Italian poem he didn't know. The boy didn't look like the type who would get awfully drunk to the point of unconsciousness. The way he talked made Ludwig think he was of high status. Perhaps he was a son of a wealthy man? But he didn't look like that type either. His face was so carefree that he seemed to have no problems in his life.. or maybe those were the effects of alcohol? Heck, Ludwig wasn't even sure if the boy was drunk. He himself was even more drunk than him! He couldn't smell alcohol from him either.

The thoughts stopped when Ludwig heard a loud roaring of an engine, and a looming bright light from behind. It was a taxi. He left the boy for awhile and ran to the sidestreet to stop the vehicle. It was empty and stopped in front of him. He felt relief released from his body. He gestured the driver to wait as he went back to the sleeping boy and carried him to the car.

The unsteady boy dragged his feet onto the taxi and just sat there as Ludwig stayed outside. The driver leaned back and looked at Ludwig, "Where to, _signore_?"

"Tell the driver where you live. I'll leave you here."

"I.. I live at the Coliseum."

"I don't know where you live, but I'm very very sure you don't live there."

"At a palace.. I live at the palace."

"Now come on, I'm sure you're not that drunk."

"I'm not even drunk.. I'm just.." the boy stopped and went back to full sleep again.

"He said he lives at the Coliseum." Ludwig said to driver nervously and desperately. The driver threw him an unconvinced look.

The driver spoke in broken English, throwing his hands up, gesturing disagreement. "That crazy!It—It late at night to me. Coliseum at late night? No no no no. I have _moglie_, you know? Waiting with my.. my three _bambini_.. I—"

"Via Arenula, #66 Sbocciare Building."

"_Signore?" _The driver stared as disbelief. "Via Arenula, #66 Sbocciare Building it is!" The driver nearly shouted with delight as he started his engine and drove off to the other direction, heading off to wherever Via Arenula was.

Ludwig was in absolute frustration as he gave up asking for the boy's address. Once again, he wasn't sure what he intended to do next but the least he can do for this boy was to take him home to his own place.

He was also not sure on how to explain the next morning on why the boy was sleeping on his bed half-naked.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry I haven't updated as fast as I can. I'm off schooling you see, and it's really hard to write with a huge block on my brain. I'm just too relaxed these days that my mind doesn't work as fast as it should be :( I hope this should all satisfy you for the time being. I have no idea when I can update so don't expect too much.**

**Thanks for the reviews guys! :D  
**

**Criticism is very much welcomed :3**


	3. It Looks Like the End of History

**~o~**

**Back to The Street Where We Began**

**~o~**

**

* * *

**

**_Tre_ **

**It Looks Like the End of History**

* * *

Ludwig's crazy night was definitely not over yet. The taxi had arrived on his apartment building and driven off once they got out. The German carried the boy by swinging one limp arm over his broad shoulders, while his arm supporting the boy's upper body, helping the drunk—or whatever his condition was—boy keep his balance. He was light so Ludwig found no difficulty in handling him. It was his thousandth sigh in under an hour.

Ludwig examined his apartment place, realizing how he terribly missed the place since he usually stayed overnight at his office. The building, superbly showing off its old classic construction, was only three stories high and was spread out horizontally, encircling a small courtyard, magnificently landscaped into a beautiful panorama of a typical Italian garden.

He walked up the stairs; carefully, so that the boy can follow.

"Mmm…" the half-asleep boy murmured a smile on its face.

"Almost there now." He replied.

Several tiring steps later, they arrived at the front door of Ludwig's room. The taller man, with only one hand free, struggled in finding his keys. He muttered a few curses before letting go of the boy and letting him stand up on his own, swinging and swaying, almost in daze. As Ludwig searched for his keys, the brunette boy walked off to the other door, the one beside Ludwig's. The boy, in his currently drunk trance, raised his arm high and prepared to knock.

"Hey!" Ludwig hissed, stopping the boy before he could disturb his neighbor. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Mmm… Pasta… I want…" Feliciano replied before carelessly falling into the man's arms and still half-asleep, murmuring kinds of pasta.

The confused man narrowed his eyes, still unable to think on how to solve his little problem. He was nice enough to save the boy from harm but he wasn't sure if he was nice enough to listen to the boy, nor talk to him once he would completely wake up the next morning. He swallowed in anxiety and carried the sleeping young man, almost like how a groom carried his bride to the honeymoon suite. This made Ludwig quite uncomfortable.

He got inside, opened the lights with his forehead and dropped the slumbering man on his bed before sitting on a chair and exhaling loudly. The boy, still tipsy, sat up on the bed.

"Is… Is this the elevator?" the lost Italian innocently asked.

Ludwig, slightly offended, replied, "No, it's my room."

His room was small, kitchen in the east and the bedroom on the other side. There was a small fireplace in the far end of the room, and in the middle, a coffee table and one chair where Ludwig was sitting on. The blonde stood up, unfastened his tie and went to the kitchen counters to open a lamp and another one by the fireplace.

"Is it time for bed already, _sorella_ Eli?" the heavy-lidded young man asked and stood up from his bed.

For a moment, Ludwig thought of his brother's Hungarian roommate. Her name was Elizaveta and he thought that maybe she knew the boy, but that was highly unlikely since the boy mentioned the name like she was his babysitter while he knew that his Hungarian friend worked as Roderich's secretary. He shrugged the ridiculous thought off. "I'm not Eli. And yes, it _is_ time for bed." He replied, walking over his wooden cabinet.

"May… I sleep… naked today, _sorella_?" Feliciano asked, with utmost innocence.

Ludwig almost choked. "Definitely not!"

"But... An...An...onio always let us sleep naked…!" he whined, swaying side-by-side as he did so. "He… he… said it is more refreshing, especially… in… siestas…"

"What are you? Five? And who's '_we'_?"

"Well, I'd like a night gown with rosebuds."

Ludwig then approached the boy and handed him a set of blue pajamas. "You'll just have to settle with this."

"Help… me undress?" he said, standing straight and head raised high, expecting an assistant.

Ludwig gulped, nervous. "Y-You have to handle that yourself."

"Mm…'kay." He mumbled and began undressing, not minding the other man in the room. Ludwig sighed wearily and headed to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of week-old champagne from his fridge to calm himself down.

The Italian took off his jacket, leaving it hanging on the side of the bed then afterward slid his tie from his neck, throwing it behind, over his head. He unbuttoned his black undershirt and threw it across the room. When Ludwig came back to the bedroom to check, he saw clothes everywhere on the floor, a boy—in only his boxers—sleeping on the bed, and a set of neatly folded pajamas laid on a chair, abandoned.

Ludwig closed his eyes for a moment, massaging his forehead, and exhaling very loudly. "What am I doing?" he asked himself before he dropped himself on a rather bumpy couch and dozed off out of fatigue, not bothering to change clothes or turn off the lights.

* * *

In a large sitting room, Lovino sat on an antique table, Antonio standing beside him. They were accompanied by a man of dark brown hair, a strand of hair by his forehead raised, defying gravity. He wore rectangular glasses and had a mole sitting beneath the side of his mouth. Another one, a woman, sitting worried on a chaise lounge, had light brown hair elongating up to her waist.

"Oh, I'm so worried! It's all my fault!" Elizaveta said, covering her face to hide modest tears. She was wearing her night clothes and bed hair. "I shouldn't have left the sleeping pills in his room!"

"That was foolish, Elizaveta." Roderich said, adjusting his glasses. He, too, was wearing his bed clothes but nonetheless still looked very much like an aristocrat. "You know what that boy is like; childish, curious, and naïve."

"He probably thought that was candy." Lovino mocked, his eyes heavy. It was already dawn after all.

"Oh, Sir Edelstein. You shouldn't blame the lady. It's no one's fault. I believe this happened for a reason." Antonio remarked, "We've already sent out Secret Service agents to look for him."

Roderich sighed, walking towards the window where his violet eyes watched the multiple number of cars driving off in search of the missing Feliciano. "This is bad for the President's reputation. It's bad enough the media found out immediately."

"I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something happened to him." The only woman in the room sobbed. "We should get more help!"

"Well…" Antonio started, "Gilbert could help, I mean, with Francis, we could—"

"Preposterous." Roderich cut off, "That man is too troublesome. He is with the media. We do not even know for sure if he was the one who started this racket."

Elizaveta's expression suddenly changed. "If that bastard lay a hand on my Feliciano…"

"Which reminds me, does Gilbert know that we are not coming home today? He may not have extra keys…"

"Let him sleep outside, on the streets, drown by the river, I don't care." The lady retorted, crossing her arms.

A knock on the door gained everyone's attention as one of the servants came in and bowed in respect, "The agents have all dispatched."

"Well? What about the ones we sent earlier this afternoon?"

"Still no trace, _Signor_ Edelstein…"

"Have you searched the palace? The streets? The stores?"

"Yes. But the second unit will search the streets and shops."

"Ah. Thank you. You may go now." With that, the servant bowed one last time before leaving the room.

Antonio, noticing Lovino had stopped talking, checked the boy and found him asleep on the table he was sitting on earlier. Roderich gave him a knowing look.

"Ah, excuse me. I'll just carry this little guy to his room." Antonio said, carrying the Italian in his arms. The Spaniard, noticing the tired couple still worrying, added, "You should go to sleep, too, guys. We can find him tomorrow." He left the room.

The aristocrat then looked at the worried Elizaveta, "I apologize. I should not have blamed you."

"But you have the right to, it really was my fault. I'm supposed to be his older sister, yet I let him run off like that, drugged, too! I'm the worst!" the young woman cried out.

She was surprised when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up and saw a smiling Roderich, "We'll find him. But now, we must retire for the night."

Feeling a little comfort from his words, she replied, "I suppose."

But on the next day, Roderich couldn't quite find the reason why he was wearing disguises with Elizaveta, stalking Antonio, Francis and Gilbert and buying batteries for his cellphone.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed :)**

**Just for info; Austria, Hungary and Prussia are living together. Hungary sometimes stay with Veneziano. Spain lives with Romano. Prussia and Germany are in the news press. Germany doesn't know anything about Austria and Hungary's work. France, Spain and Prussia are best friends. Feliciano's still lost ;)**

**If you haven't watched Roman Holiday yet, well, you should! It's my favorite Hepburn movie :)**


End file.
